


Kittens

by Johnlockforthewin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ALL BAD THINGS DO NOT HAPPEN WITH SNAPE OR DRACO, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Child Abuse, Except For Draco's Father, Harry does not die, Humiliation, M/M, Physical Abuse, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, Triggers, Verbal Abuse, Vernon is a bastard, Violence, who is Draco's Vernon, with Draco and Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlockforthewin/pseuds/Johnlockforthewin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry finds two little cats, one a kitten, and one injured. Harry takes in the cats, not knowing that they are actually Snape and Draco, who witness Harry being abused, changing their perception of the Boy-Who-Lived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Animagus

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I am terrible at these things, so I am only putting this one here. I do not own Harry or his friends, nemeses, or enemies. I do not make money from this. Everything Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and the HP movie producers.  
> Also: DO NOT READ IF ANYTHING IN THE TAGS TRIGGERS YOU! PLEASE KNOW YOUR OWN LIMITS AND KEEP YOURSELF SAFE. THANK YOU
> 
> For the purpose of this story, Snape and Draco can talk in animal form, but not out loud, though it will be in quotation marks and italicised. Harry will not hear anything they say, but it will not sound like weird meowing either. Also, for this, I will be making Draco aware of Snape’s position as a spy.
> 
> ^^

“Draco.”

Draco looked up from his transfiguration essay to see his dark, brooding godfather—Severus Snape.

Draco sighed. “Yes?”

Severus sighed as well. “Professor McGonagall has requested our presence.”

Draco got up from his spot and followed Severus to McGonagall’s office.

Draco was staying at the castle with Severus for this summer, because his father had gotten worse than ever with the beatings. All this Death Eater business had gone to his father’s head, and the stress was being taken out on Draco.

They reached her office, knocked, and were let in. “Ah, Severus, Mister Malfoy, I have an important task for you. Severus, I employ you for this because I know your skill set will be perfect. Mister Malfoy, I believe you would like a chance at redemption… given what happened last year?”

Draco blushed; he had been a member of Umbridge’s group of minions that had tried to destroy Potter’s group, Dumbledore’s Army. “Well, um, yes. Thank you,” he added when he felt Severus nudge him with his elbow.

McGonagall smiled, and continued her speech. "Severus, I do believe you have an animagus form... perhaps unregistered?”

Severus blanched. “Of course I’m not, and if I were, I would be registered.”

McGonagall smirked. “And risk your position as a spy? No, I am more than aware of it, and I believe Mister Malfoy here has the potential, if you were to be so kind as to help him along?”

Severus snapped his head down to Draco; he had suspected that the boy had underlying talents. “What is this task?”

McGonagall pinched her lips. “I need you to look after Mister Potter. Professor Dumbledore has a lady down in Surrey that helps keep an eye on the boy. The problem is, she cannot do anything about it, only report the problems to Hogwarts. Unfortunately, the headmaster was the only one with any information until quite recently. He is now ill, and I have access to the reports. Missus Figgs has reports about Potter’s treatment since he was about two. I am busy, and need you, Severus, to keep an eye on him this summer, along with Mister Malfoy, and report to me what you think needs to be done. I trust there will be no issue?” she asked at Draco, as if daring him to say there was a problem.

Draco shook his head, soft blonde hair swishing across his forehead.

“Very well Minerva,” Severus agreed.

Draco’s face lit up; he was going to be an animagus. Draco wondered what animal he would have; hopefully he would be a snake, or a vicious spider. But, knowing his luck, he might get a penguin.

_-*0*-_

 

Severus was having a hard time keeping the smile off his face, for he had not ever seen his godson so happy. The nearly sixteen year old boy was thrumming with excitement.

“Draco, you are going to have to concentrate. Also, you will not have a choice as to what your animagus will be. There could be a chance you will turn to something that will not benefit our assignment. Now, would you like to see mine?”

Draco nodded and took an unconscious step back. Severus closed his eyes and suddenly, he was a cat. He became a midnight black cat with short but soft looking fur, and the same black eyes that made first years cry, but had comforted Draco in times when life seemed like too much.

“Wow…” Draco stared down at his potions master, now a cat. “Aw, you’re so cute,” Draco cooed.

Draco jumped back as Severus changed back into the brooding man he was, with a scowl set on Draco.

“I am not _cute_.”

Draco had seen how graceful that cat was, and thought that that would not be a bad choice.

“Now, Draco, because we do not know what your form will be, this first change will be the most difficult. Close your eyes and focus on your body.” Severus watched as his godson shut his eyes and began twitching, first his fingers, then arm, and Severus realised he might not had to work as hard as he thought. It was clear Draco wanted this, and that was the most important part to the transformation.

“Good, now, think of being outside your body, of not being trapped within its enclosure.” Immediately, Draco’s body went relaxed as his mind left its cage and felt to be nothing.

“Now Draco, this will be difficult, as I said before, because we don’t know your form yet. You must think of being smaller. Think of being small, looking up to see the world. Think of keener senses, able to detect an approaching prey or predator. Think—”

Suddenly Severus could not see Draco. The boy couldn’t have changed yet, surely? A small mew from behind him made him turn. It seemed that Draco was a cat as well. That would be very advantageous.

“Draco?” he called to the fluffy little cat. It really did look like Draco in cat form. It had fur the same colour as his white blonde hair he had normally, and the same piercing grey eyes, but now they were wide and kittenish.

A small ‘Mew’ was his answer. “Draco, in order to become human again, you need to do everything I just told you. But this time, think of being inside your body, your human body.”

Sooner than Severus expected, Draco was back, stumbling.

Severus pulled a chair to him. “Here Draco. You did an excellent job.” Severus continued to praise the boy as he transfigured a quill into a goblet, the charmed some water into it. “Here,” he said, as the blonde boy took the cup.

“That… that was…” Draco started, but couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Confusing?” Severus suggested.

“Well, yeah, but it was just… awesome!” he exclaimed, a smile on his face.

“Very well, we shall practice some more, as soon as you rest.”

Draco took a nap, thinking about how proud he had made Severus, and fell asleep with a tiny smile on his face.

**End of Chapter One**


	2. Finding the Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets abused (in detail) and is let down by everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: If you have triggers, PLEASE do not read this story. It does not get better for quite a while. This chapter contains rape/non-con and abuse of a minor. Also contains an unhealthy relationship.

“Freak! Get to your room!” Vernon’s voice flooded into the kitchen from the sitting room. _The bastard can’t even get up to yell at me._ Harry thought as he trudged upstairs to his room. Well, at least this was better than doing chores.

He got to his tiny room and sat on the floor; there was no way he could sleep in that bed after…

He stood up and picked up the photo of his parents.

“Hi mum, dad,” he said solemnly. He sighed. “Why? Why did he pick me?”

It had been just last week when Vernon had brought a ‘business associate’ up to Harry’s room. Harry had of course been confused but as soon as Vernon showed him two belts, Harry knew the worst was coming. His uncle and his uncle’s _friend_ had tied Harry to his own bed, and…

Harry startled himself by realising he was crying. He wiped his tears and looked at his clock. 8:46. Harry laid down on the floor and tried to sleep.

_-*0*-_

Hours later, Harry woke up to the sound of his door being unlocked. But perhaps if he acted like he was asleep, his uncle would go away. So Harry laid still, eyes closed, and pretended to be asleep.

The door creaked open.

“See, this is my freaky nephew. He’s a fairy on top of that, so he’ll enjoy whatever you give him.” Vernon’s voice was cold and cruel.

“Something wrong with fairies?” An unfamiliar voice said.

“If you’re him, then yes. The boy’s just messed up in every way.”

Harry scowled.

Bad move.

“Oh, so you _are_ awake, you little shit? Thought being asleep would make him uninterested?”

Harry sat up, knowing he was caught, and put himself on guard. “No, sir.” Harry said, disappointed to hear his voice so feeble. But he couldn’t defend himself, could he? He couldn’t use magic to save himself, or he wouldn’t be allowed back at Hogwarts. He was helpless.

The mystery man stepped forward and Harry tried and failed not to flinch when the man grabbed his chin gently, pulling it up until he was staring into the man’s eyes.

“Well, you aren’t much, are you?” the man asked sweetly. “No, your face is… well I’m not going to be looking at it, am I? Stand up,” the man barked, suddenly harsh.

Harry scrambled to comply, afraid what the man would do if he didn’t.

“Turn around and put your hands on the wall.”

Harry turned slowly, but yelped when he felt hands pulling on his clothes. The man ripped his shirt off, making buttons fly, and then yanked down his jeans, leaving him bare naked. Harry regretted not wearing pants, but it wasn’t as if he would actually wear Dudley’s dirty underwear, which was all he was allowed.

The man started massaging Harry’s arse, grabbing and pulling at it with large hands. Harry whimpered.

“Oh, you like that?” the cruel man asked. “You like having your arse played with, eh?” Harry felt a sudden, sharp SLAP to his left arse cheek, followed quickly by one to his right. Harry yelped as the man roughly grabbed his arse again. The man just chuckled darkly. “Don’t act like you don’t like this.”

Vernon had been standing back, but stepped forward and grabbed Harry by his hair and yanked his neck up at an uncomfortable angle. “Oh, he likes it alright.”

Harry felt the man’s hands leave his arse, only to return to his waist, picking him up and throwing him on the bed. Harry’s head hit the bedframe and knocked him out. It was only a few minutes later when he came to, but he realised that there was no way out of his situation.

His arms were raised above his head, tied to the headboard, and he was lying on his stomach, with his bum in the air. Unfortunately, Harry felt hands pull his cheeks apart, and then all he could feel was searing pain. He felt like vomiting. He felt like he was getting stabbed over and over and over and…

Harry couldn’t take much longer, he knew he couldn’t. He’d take Voldemort over this any day. Harry never allowed himself to scream, but as he felt a belt lashing at his back, he couldn’t help it.

He screamed.

_-*0*-_

Draco and Severus had apparated to Number 4 Privet Drive, behind a bush, so that no one would see two random people popping up out of nowhere. Draco had been practising day and night at his changing, and both he and Severus were cats within seconds.

Severus had told Draco of this ability to communicate among other animagi, and they had practised very often.

They were trotting along when they heard a muffled scream. They both paused and look at each other.

 _“What was that?”_ Kitten Draco asked.

 _“Probably just an infant somewhere,”_ Cat Severus replied. _“Nothing to worry about. Come on.”_

They walked into the backyard of Potter’s house and found a small shed. Severus quickly ran inside and then back out again.

_“There is a pile of cloth that we can sleep on. Come here.”_

Draco followed his godfather and hesitantly put his paws on the cloth.

 _“Hurry up Draco,”_ Severus admonished from his spot, which he had already curled up on. Draco stepped forward and tentatively curled up next to Severus. Severus mentally smiled, and went to sleep.

_-*0*-_

The next morning, Harry got up extra early to cook breakfast and start on his outside work before Vernon could decide he wanted to punish Harry for something.

When Harry got outside, he limped to the shed to get some things for the yard work. As he turned to leave, though, he saw two little cats curled up next to each other.

“Aw, you guys are cute,” Harry whispered. As if they could hear him, both cats turned their eyes on him.

There was something eerie about the eyes. They were… familiar somehow.

“Hi,” he said, crouching down and reaching out his hand. The black one stood up and sniffed at his hand, but the blonde one stayed back, looking confused. Harry had never seen a cat express so much with just its face before.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said gently.

Suddenly there were footsteps behind him, and he stood quickly, fearing that if Dudley saw him with the cats, they would get hurt by Dudley.

When Harry turned around, though, he saw not Dudley, but Dudley’s friend Trevor.

Harry smiled. “Hi Trevor,” he said quietly.

Trevor smiled back. “Hey Harry. I missed you.” And with that, Trevor stepped forward into Harry’s personal space bubble, and kissed him.

Harry smiled into the kiss; Trevor was the only one that could make the things his uncle did seem to vanish. Harry loved being with Trevor, he was so nice and always got Harry lots of gifts after they fought. Harry was sure he was in love.

Trevor walked himself and Harry until Harry was pushed up against the wall of the shed. Trevor grabbed Harry’s shoulders and turned them so Harry’s back was now to the door, all the while still kissing him.

“God, Harry,” Trevor panted. “Oh, yeah… god, Harry, please, will you suck me?” Trevor looked hopeful, and though Harry didn’t really want to, he nodded anyway.

Harry slid to his knees and unbuttoned Trevor’s trousers and pulled his cock through the hole of his boxers. Harry leaned forward and took the head into his mouth when Trevor gripped Harry’s dark hair and pushed him down.

Harry’s eyes watered, but that was how it was supposed to feel; Trevor had told him. Harry was always so disappointed that he couldn’t do as well as he wanted for his boyfriend. Hopefully if Harry did a good job this time, he would be allowed to get off.

So Harry tried the best he could to relax his mouth, jaw, and throat, and let himself be taken.

Minutes later, Trevor came in Harry’s mouth, and Harry tried to swallow all of it.

Trevor cleared his throat. “Well, thanks,” he said absently, pulling up his trousers and stepping out the door.

“Wait,” Harry called.

“What?” Trevor snapped.

Harry shook his head; he had disappointed Trevor _again_. “Um, nothing, I guess. I’m sorry.”

Trevor sighed. “You’ll do better next time,” he said, as he always did.

“I love you Trevor,” Harry said quietly, but when he looked up, Trevor was gone.

_-*0*-_

Severus was appalled. How could someone do that? Even if it was Potter, that is no way to treat someone who cares about you. And Potter clearly did care about this boy.

But then Potter turned back to Severus and Draco, and started crying.

“I’m sorry you guys have to see this. You see, usually I have my owl to talk to, but I left her at Ron’s because I was afraid Uncle Vernon would…” Harry sighed. “Do you guys have a home? Collars? Anything? I could take you to my room, keep you safe there. I could feed you.”

Severus could tell the boy was struggling, so, without being conspicuous, he shot Draco a look, and walked up to Potter, rubbing his head against the fabric of the boy’s ripped jeans.

Potter ran his hand down Severus’ head, and reached around for a collar. Finding none, he carefully put his arms around Severus. Severus allowed himself to be picked up. But when Potter tried to pick Draco up, Draco scuttled away.

 _“Draco.”_ Severus told Draco, who padded forward and let himself be picked up by the boy.

“I’ll take care of you. No one’s in the house right now, so I’ll take you in.” With that, Harry walked into the house through the back door, went up the steps and into his tiny bedroom. He set them down and then shut the door.

“Hm, I supposed you guys need a bed, don’t you?” Harry asked as he looked around the room for some cloth. He found an old shirt with a hole in it and folded it up and stuck it in Hedwig’s cage. He the bent down and scooped up the black cat and placed it in the little bed. When it settled, he then turned to the smaller kitten. He picked up too, and placed it beside the black one.He stepped back, leaving the cage door open slightly.

“Do you guys have names? I suppose I’ll need something to call you. Hm, you…” he was looking at the black one. “You know, you look like my potions professor, if he were a cat. But, no, that’d be weird saying I have Snape in my room. Hmm…” Harry thought for a moment. “How about… oh! Shadow? Ugh, no, that’s stupid.” Harry looked hard at the cat. “Maybe I _should_ just call you Snape. Might be easier to remember.”

Harry turned to the little blonde one and said, “So appropriately, I should call you Malfoy.” The little cat shook his head as if to get something off its ears. Harry laughed. “Okay, then. Malfoy and Snape. Well, I have to go finish my chores now, I’ll be back in a few hours.”

And Harry left the room.

**End of Chapter Two**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are in a relationship that is in any way similar to Harry and Trevor's, please notify someone to see if you are in an abusive relationship.  
> Also, if you ignored my warning the first time, please listen now. It will only get worse for Harry. The story DOES have a happy ending, but not for a while.


	3. Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is worked to the bone, and then something worse than ever comes to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic description of rape, do not read if this will trigger you!

Severus turned to Draco. _“Draco, are you alright? You look quite… disturbed.”_

_“Well of course I’m disturbed; I’ve just had Potter handling me. Not to mention I had to watch him suck off some bloke.”_

Severus rolled his cat eyes and said, _“Draco, you didn’t have to watch, you know.”_

 _“But I could still hear the… sounds and stuff.”_ Were Draco a human, he would have blushed.

Severus, planning to tease the child, was surprised at the sudden looking away when he said, _“Perhaps you were simply jealous?”_

_“Of Potter? Are you insane?”_

_“I didn’t mean of Potter.”_ Severus smirked. Well, the cat equivalent to a smirk.

_“What? You’re saying I was jealous of that bloke Potter was with? You must be insane. There is no way I’d ever want to even touch Potter, much less kiss him and… do things with him. I mean, I’m not even gay, so the fact that it was Potter is basically moot, because I wouldn’t want to be with a boy. So—”_

_“Draco,”_ Severus interrupted.

_“What?”_

_“I was just joking. Though you seem very defensive. Is there a reason for that?”_

_“No! I mean… no.”_

_“Hmm.”_ Severus rolled his eyes.

_“Severus? Do you think Potter knows about us? I mean, he knew our names.”_

_“Draco, while we are animals, we are still the same people at heart. And as you heard Potter say, he recognised our eyes, which are identical in colour to that when we are human,”_ Severus explained.

 _“Oh,”_ Draco said simply. _“What about the fact that Potter was in the shed when that guy came?”_

_“He appeared to be doing chores. Although I did think that Potter was a spoiled brat, it appears as though his life is as normal as any muggle.”_

_“But he said he gone for a few hours. What chore takes that long?”_

Severus sighed, _“I do not know. Perhaps he has multiple chores and together they take a long time.”_

 _“I’m tired,”_ Draco whined.

 _“Then sleep,”_ Severus replied.

_-*0*-_

Severus and Draco had fallen asleep, but woke up when Potter returned, looking tired and weary.

“Hey guys,” he whispered. “I snuck you guys some food.” He set down the food in front of the cage and turned back towards the door. “Sorry, I have to go fix dinner. I’ll be up in either half an hour or 45 minutes; it depends if I’m eating or not.”

Then the boy was gone again.

 _“They make him fix dinner and he might not get any? That’s ridiculous,”_ Draco said as he sniffed at the tiny blocks of cheese and turkey slices.

 _“Just eat it Draco. And yes, it appears as though you are correct.”_ Severus sighed. Potter’s life was becoming more and more unpredictable by the minute.

Severus licked at one small yellow cheese cube, and then bit into it. Surprisingly, his cat-palate did not object. Perhaps some cats simply like cheese.

 _“Phhtt,”_ Draco spit. He, apparently, did not like cheese as a cat. _“This is gross…”_ Draco complained.

 _“Draco, if Potter was serious, then this might be our only food for a while. Eat it anyway,”_ Severus chastised.

Draco made a kitten-frown, but took a small nibble anyway.

_-*0*-_

Harry opened the door with weary hands, stumbling into his room and promptly falling on the floor. He groaned and sighed, but pushed himself up into a sitting position, hissing as he scraped his back against the wall. His back which was covered in evidence of Vernon’s beating from just minutes ago.

With his eyes closed, he didn’t notice two pairs of curious eyes watching him.

Slowly, Harry pushed himself to a stand, and took baby steps to his wardrobe. He pulled out the only pyjamas he owned, a pair of trousers with stains and holes, with a top that was too big and didn’t match.

Harry pulled down his trousers, again with no pants, and slipped on the pyjama bottoms. When he pulled off his shirt, dried blood kept it sticking there, and then tore off of his scabs to open the wounds. Hedwig’s cage rustled loudly. Harry snapped his head towards it before remembering the cats from earlier.

“Oh, it’s just you guys. Sorry I don’t have food, Dudley’s on a diet, which means I am too.”

Harry was quite hot and decided to leave his shirt off. Also, he needed to let his welts heal in the air.

_-*0*-_

As soon as Potter’s trousers had come off, Draco had turned around. He was still peeking at Potter’s arse, but this way Severus wouldn’t know.

 _“Yes I would,”_ came Severus’ silky voice.

 _“What? How—,”_ Draco stuttered.

_“Surely you have not forgotten I am a Legilimens.”_

Draco kitten-blushed; he had indeed forgotten.

When Potter’s shirt came off though, Draco stared for a completely different reason.

There were several marks on Potter’s back, several of which were old, but most of them were new, and still bleeding. Draco backed up quickly, knocking the cage slightly.

Potter started talking, but eventually went to bed. Draco decided sleep was a good idea too, and so laid down, shut his eyes, and snoozed. When Draco woke up, a large blanket had been thrown over the cage. What Draco saw next…

_-*0*-_

Harry woke to his door being unlocked. He sat up quickly and braced himself; he knew pretending to sleep wouldn’t help him this time.

Hedwig’s cage rustled, and Harry panicked as he threw a blanket over it. There was a small crack that Harry didn’t notice which the cats were peeking through.

Harry leapt back into bed just as the door opened.

In walked Vernon, a short, thin stranger, and another man who Harry thought was a stranger, until hitting him with the force of a truck was the realisation that this second man was the one from only days ago.

“No,” he said, even though he knew it wouldn’t do anything to stop them. The shorter man came up to Harry and said softly, “Oh Harry, don’t you know that you can’t say no to me?”

_Oh god, oh god, it’s Trevor. Trevor won’t hurt me. He won’t hurt me._

Harry was so busy staring wide-eyed at Trevor that he didn’t notice when his hands were pulled above his head, leaving him face down on his bed.

His hands were secured at the footboard by belts while his legs were left free. Or free-ish.

Hands grabbed Harry’s calves and pulled his legs above his head, leaving him exposed. His pyjama bottoms were yanked off and then there were more hands on him, too many hands, too many voices, telling him all the things they were going to do to him.

“Stop!” Harry tried shouting, but that didn’t work. It never did.

Too soon, Harry felt a familiar yet painful stabbing in his arse through to his gut. Harry had tears flowing down his face now, but he would not scream, not this time.

Then he was yanked by his hair and another cock was shoved in him, this time in his throat.

Harry cried and drooled, groaned and trembled, but he did not scream.

Harry was beginning to think that he might pass out from suffocation, but then the cock in his mouth pulled out and slapped his across the face. Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

“Say you’re a whore,” came Trevor’s voice from right above Harry’s head.

Harry cried harder and shook his head. He heard it before he felt it; a whip sound and a stinging thud on his back that Harry recognised as a belt. His chin was grabbed roughly, forcing his to look up. After he was struck across the back once more, Trevor’s voice floated back to him. “Harry, I told you something. I gave you an order. Now tell me you’re a whore, or I will cut off your prick. Say it, say you’re my whore.”

Harry regretted it before the words came out of his mouth. “You’re my whore.”

Everything that happened next was a blur. He heard himself screaming, felt pain beyond even a _Crucio_ , saw black and fell down into unconsciousness so quickly, that he didn’t know what actually knocked him out.

**End of Chapter Three**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that was tough. Sorry it's taking so long to get chapters posted. Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> ^^


	4. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Snape see what as been done to Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for suicidal thoughts.

Draco was turned around, not watching the horror taking place just two metres away from him. It reminded him too much of his own father, who got frustrated whenever Draco did something wrong, who got furious if Draco embarrassed him in public, who hated Draco, because the only reason Draco had been born was so that there would be a Malfoy heir. It reminded him too much of his punishments he used to receive.

Draco heard the nasty things being said to Potter. Terrible things about being a whore. Draco was scared for Har—Potter. The threat of having one’s dick cut off should be incentive enough for anyone with one. But Draco nearly laughed upon hearing Potter say,

“You’re my whore.”

Draco didn’t laugh at the sounds he heard after that.

It was the most awful screaming. The same scream he had heard when he and Severus had _Apparated_ here. It was Potter. The sounds were awful.

The sound of _breaking_.

The sound of _snapping_.

The sound of _smashing_

_Squishing_

_Bending_

_Hitting_

_Whipping_

**_Screaming_**.

Draco gagged.

Draco felt even sicker when the screaming stopped, because those horrid people were still beating and raping him, even though he was unconscious, or maybe even—

No, no, Potter couldn’t be dead, there was no way. He had out lived several encounters with the Dark Lord, surely these muggles wouldn’t be the end of him? Even so, Draco kept his eyes squeezed shut, as if that would help the noise dissipate.

Draco was startled when he realised he was crying. Could kittens cry, or was this because he was an animagus?

 _“Severus… Sev, please make it stop…"_   Draco knew he was being pathetic. How was he supposed to be a proper Death Eater when he couldn’t stand the sight of blood, the smell of sick, and the sounds of the tortured?

 _“Draco, I cannot help the boy. It appears as though these…_ people _are getting worn out, and might quit soon.”_ Severus couldn’t quite call them people; even the Death Eaters hadn’t raped anyone. Lucius Malfoy aside.

Severus could not stand the horrors he was watching. He turned around so he could comfort Draco, who was curled up in a little furry ball, shaking will fear and shivering with sadness.

_-*0*-_

Later, when it was quiet and still, Draco felt he needed to tell Severus something important.

 _“Severus,”_ Draco said softly. _“There was one time, at Hogwarts during fourth year, after the Triwizard Tournament. When I saw Potter, he looked miserable. It was strange, because I had never seen him less than happy. But he was…”_ There was a long pause before Draco began again. _“He was cutting himself, muttering like, ‘my fault,’ and ‘Cedric.’ And he was… he looked like death, nearly. Too skinny, his eyes were… dead. Usually they’re so, alive. Burning, almost. But then…”_ Draco sighed. _“Then he was just… not there.”_

Severus considered tis for a moment. He had noticed Potter’s demeanour had changed; no longer snarky, but instead just full of sorrow. And to have _this_ to come home to… _“Draco… I do not know what to say or do to make this situation any better for anyone. I was unaware of the things happening here, and I believe I have made his life worse than it already is.”_

There was a small noise coming from the direction of Potter’s bed. Severus looked up to see Potter limping towards the door. He faintly heard Draco start, but was focused on Potter’s face, which was covered in blood, nose dislocated, bruised around the eyes, cheekbones, and mouth. Potter wasn’t wearing any clothes, but it took a second for that to register with Severus, because he was so covered in blood that it covered every inch of what was pale skin, now likely to be covered in bruises and lashes.

Potter took feeble steps forward, but didn’t make it far before he collapsed and began sobbing.

As he sobbed, he said shakily, “Why, why does it always have to be me? What did I ever fucking do?” The sobbing got louder. “Fucking existed, that’s what I did. Why didn’t I just die when he tried to kill me? Could’ve died with my parents, then… then no one would have to see me. Malfoy could find someone else to tease. Ron and Hermione, they wouldn’t get in danger, they’d be safe. Everyone would be happier…

“If I kill myself now… well, no one would miss me. All Voldemort wants is for me to be dead, so why not give him what he wants?” Potter sighed.

_-*0*-_

Harry sighed.

Sirius had given him a Pensieve to use. It was a very special kind that allowed the user to actually project the vision onto a surface, or Harry’s wall. Harry walked to his wardrobe and opened a squeaky door and pulled out an empty bowl. He set the bowl do on the ground and grabbed a jar made out the same material out of his bedside drawer. He emptied the liquid from the jar into the bowl. He set the jar beside the bowl. The jar was the projector.

Harry sat down and extracted the memory of his very first encounter with Voldemort. Or rather, his second, if he counted when his parents were killed, but Harry didn’t remember that time.

Harry set the memory in the bowl, and the jar shot light out and up onto the wall.

Harry sat back and watched his eleven year old self face the darkest wizard of all time.

**End of Chapter Four**


	5. Watching the Memories

“Snape? Yes he does seem the type, doesn’t he?” Professor Quirell and Harry Potter, age 11, stood in front of the Mirror of Erised, deep within the castle of Hogwarts.

15 year old Harry Potter sat in his dingy room upstairs in 4 Privet Drive. Alone and knowing he was locked in for the night, Harry had decided to watch some of his memories. This was one that no one alive, save himself, of course, had ever seen. Many of his memories were like that, it seemed.

As he watched, he was completely unaware of the two pairs of round, kitten eyes staring and watching as well.

_-*0*-_

Draco was very curious as to what actually happened with Potter during their first year.

And what happened was this:

A creepy voice sounded from seemingly nowhere.

_USE THE BOY_

Potter talked with professor Quirell.

“You!” Quirell shouted. “Come look at this mirror. What do you see?”

Potter looked in a mirror that showed his reflection holding a dark amber stone.

“I-I’m shaking hands with Dumbledore, I’ve just won the house cup.”

_HE LIES! HE LIES!_

“Tell the truth, Potter!”

Quirell took off his turban and turned around.

An ugly face, literally attached to the back of Quirell’s head opened its eyes and started at Harry.

Potter screamed in pain.

Potter was almost strangled.

_KILL HIM! KILL HIM!_

Potter’s skin burned Quirell.

“I-I can’t! My h-hands!” Quirell’s hands were a blistering red.

Potter smothered and burned Quirell to death.

Potter blacked out.

Draco blinked. He remembered when he had not believed a thing being said, but he certainly did now.

The large screen rippled and showed what appeared to be Potter’s next memory.

There was a green flash of light, and tumbling through something until Potter fell out of a fireplace, into Borgin & Burke’s.

Draco’s wide kitten eyes widened some more when he saw Potter looking around at stuff, and then seeing Draco in the memory, walking up to the door.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Severus look over at him, but Draco ignored him.

The scene that played out next was quite familiar with Draco.

_-*0*-_

Draco snatched his hand away quickly as his father’s cane came down almost onto it.

“Don’t touch anything Draco,” Father said grimly.

“Yes, Father,” Draco muttered.

He watched Father saunter through the shop and tried to imitate it.

When Borgin, a scraggly old man with dark, messy hair and a big nose, came out saying, “Ah, Master Malfoy, and young Master Malfoy, too. What a pleasure it is.”

Draco got distracted and looked at a strange hand on a cushion.

“Draco,” Father snapped. And Draco turned and set the small chest he had been carrying on the counter, before returning to his own browsing.

He had just gotten to a large, black cabinet when Father’s cane hit the cabinet in front of his face rather loudly.

Draco whipped his head around to see Father’s face, calm but for the tiny fire in his eyes that promised punishment when they returned home.

“ _What_ did I say?”

“Touch nothing,” Draco replied monotonously, but shaky.

“Exactly.”

“Sorry, Father.”

Father returned his cane to the ground and snapped, “Come Draco, we’re going.” Draco followed Father sullenly out the door to go to Flourish & Blotts.

_-*0*-_

Outside the memory, Draco stared at Potter. _How, but why, when… why did he see that? Him, of all people?_  Draco thought.

On the screen, the memory changed again, revealing the Shrieking Shack.

A scraggly, tattooed man with ugly teeth and rotting hair was the first thing to register to Draco as he watched. The second thing that registered was the fact that that man was Sirius Black, his Mother’s brother; his uncle.

Why was this in Potter’s memories?

Potter himself was in the small wooden room, launching himself at Black.

But the crazy man just laughed. “Are you going to kill me Harry?”

The screen shuddered, as if skipping over bits, and as it came back on, Black was enthusiastically saying, “The map, never lies. Pettigrew’s alive. And he’s in this room! There!” And pointed at Weasley. Who looked to have an injured leg, but screeched, “Me? You’re mad, I’m not—”

“Not you, you rat!” Black pointed to the rat in Weasley’s hands.

“Scabbers? But he’s been in my family for—”

“12 years! Awfully long life for a common garden rat! And he’s missing a toe, isn’t he?”

Potter spoke up, “All they could find of Pettigrew was his—”

“Finger!” Black yelled.

The screen rippled again and came back to Lupin and Black shooting spells at Weasley’s rat, which tried to jump through a small hole, but one spell got him, and he turned into a man.

The man, Pettigrew, he assumed, was a mousy, fat, greasy, dirty looking man with large eyes and almost no hair.

The rat-turned-to-man said, “Sirius? Remus? My old friends,” and then tried to dash out of the room. But then he was caught by Lupin and Black. The rat-turned-to-man turned to Harry and said, “Oh, Mister Potter, You look like James, we were the best of friends.” By now Potter was struggling to get the disgusting man off of him.

The memory rippled. Perhaps Potter just didn’t remember all of it. Lupin was shouting at Pettigrew. “You sold Lily and James Potter to Voldemort, didn’t you? Didn’t you!?”

Pettigrew looked like he was going to cry. “I-I didn’t _mean_ to. The Dark Lord, you have no idea what he’s like. What would you have done? What would you have done?”

“I would’ve died! I would have died rather than betray my friends!” Black shouted.

Again, the memory rippled.

Potter shouted, “No!”

Lupin looked incredulous. “Harry, this man—”

“I know. We’ll take him to the castle.”

Pettigrew was close to tears again. “Oh, my dear boy, thank you, thank you.” He began to hug Potter, but was shoved off.

“Get off me! I said we’ll take you to the castle, after that the Dementors can have you.”

The screen shifted and then they were outside. Potter and Black were talking. “You’re parents made me you’re godfather, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“If, well, if you wanted to, you could come visit me some time. However long you want.”

“You mean, you mean I could come live with you?” Potter sounded hopeful.

“If you like. Of course you don’t have to.”

“I would love that.”

Black and Potter smiled.

It was strange, if Black had offered for Potter to live with him, why was Potter at this horrid place. Draco looked down at current-Potter’s face, which had a tiny but sad smile on it.

The memory turned black and then the next scene showed up, this time in a very large room with a stone archway in the middle of a tall mound. Potter and his friends were standing on guard, wands out.

The friends there were Lovegood, Longbottom, Granger, Weasley, and Weaslette.

There was a large cloud of black smoke that swooped down and consumed them all, leaving only Potter behind. Potter was holding some weird orb thing. Potter looked around, seeing his friends held by various Deatheaters.

Draco’s eyes widened when he saw his own father walk in, arm outstretched, drawling monotonously, “Did you _actually_ think, that you and your friends could beat us?”

The memory rippled. Father was saying, “Hand me the Prophecy, now.”

And Potter actually handed over the stupid orb.

The memory rippled.

White clouds swirled around and then Black was standing in front of Potter. Black looked clean this time. His hair was still long and shaggy, but it all went down, instead of sticking out all over the place.

“Stay away from my godson.” And Black _punched_ Father in the face. Draco nearly laughed.

Then there was duelling. Spells flying everywhere, people leaping out of the way, and Potter and Black were talking.

“You have done beautifully. Let us take it from here.”

Potter shook his head and then they both stood up, duelling with Deatheaters. Potter was battling Father. When Potter disarmed him, Black shouted, “Nice one, James!” And Potter smiled brightly.

Black then sent Father flying backwards.

From in the distance Bellatrix’s voice. _“Avada Kedavra!”_

Potter’s face dropped, and Black’s eyes went dead. Black disappeared through the arch.

Potter’s face was a look of sadness that even Draco had not experienced before. It made Draco’s heart break for Harry. For Potter. Not Harry.

So that was why Potter still living here.

Draco looked down at the Potter here now, and saw that he was crying.

But Potter looked up at the screen. On it, Draco saw Potter and Diggory. They were in a graveyard.

**End of Chapter Five**


	6. When Memories are Too Much

Harry felt the rushing spin of dizziness and the slam of the dirt on his face as he landed in a place that at first appeared to be unfamiliar. There were gravestones everywhere, and it was dark and gloomy. It looked like something out of a horror movie that Dudley had made him watch when he was four. Harry was used to that, though; the horrors he had seen in real life made that movie look like a children’s book.

“You okay?” Cedric asked from where he was lying next to Harry.

“Yeah I’m fine. You?” Harry replied.

Cedric didn’t answer, but instead stood up, looked around and asked, “Where are we?”

Harry stood as well and they walked apart from each other, still panting.

“I’ve been here before,” Harry realised.

Cedric knelt down next to the cup. “It’s a portkey,” he said with a crooked smile. “Harry, the cup’s a portkey.”

“I’ve been here before,” Harry quickly said again. “In a dream.” Harry looked over at a gravestone next to him. It read:

TOM RIDDLE  
1905-1943

Tom Riddle. That was—no. This was Voldemort’s Gravestone? It couldn’t be.

“Cedric, we have to get back to the cup. Now!” Harry called.

“What’re you talking about?” Cedric wasn’t listening.

Over in the distance, a large man stepped out of a creaking door, and Harry’s head felt like it was split in two. It had never been this bad before. There was a large caldron in front of them, and flames sprouted up from underneath it.

Cedric turned to Harry. “Harry, what is it?”

“Get back to the cup!” Harry shouted. Harry looked at the man again, and saw it was Pettigrew, but that didn’t compare to the weird… baby thing he was holding.

Cedric stood and pointed his wand at Wormtail. “Who are you, what do you want?” he shouted.

“ _Kill the spare,_ ” a hissing voice whispered.

Wormtail raised his wand promptly, and shouted, “ _Avada Kedavra!”_

“No!” shouted Harry, as green light erupted from Wormtail’s wand. “Cedric!”

Cedric flew back and landed with a thud.

Wormtail rushed over to Harry, using some sort of levitation charm to lift Harry and push him against a large stone tomb. The tomb decided to help and wrapped its staff under Harry’s neck and hands, leaving him hanging there.

“ _Do it, now!_ ” the hideous whisper hissed.

Then Wormtail went to the caldron and dropped the baby into it. Harry’s head was still burning, and when Wormtail pointed a wand at him, he thought he was going to be killed. Instead, Wormtail levitated a bone nearby Harry’s feet and said, “Bone, from the father, unwillingly, given.” And as he dropped it into the pot, it burst into flames.

Wormtail put his wand away, drawing out a knife instead. “Flesh, of the servant, willingly, sacrificed.” And then cut off his own hand, letting out an awful scream. Harry’s head throbbed in pain.

“Blood,” Wormtail growled, “from the enemy,” Wormtail stalked forward with the knife, cutting open Harry’s sleeve, “forcibly, taken.” He cut into Harry’s arm, making Harry yell out, and created a nasty gash. Wormtail walked back to the pot, and dropped three drops of blood while saying, “The Dark Lord, shall rise, again.”

The liquid inside the pot bubbled red and white and Harry actually thought he was bleeding from his scar. It was difficult to tell, there were other fluids, tears, sweat, running down his face.

Harry let out a yell of pain. The whole pot and its contents caught fire, and Wormtail ran away.

Suddenly, the pot disappeared and instead something stood there, looking much like professor Lupin had when he changed to a werewolf. The dark clouds around the thing were drawing closer to it, almost cloaking it. The pain in Harry’s head was unbearable and he couldn’t stop shouting.

The thing stood, appearing much like a man, save for the visible veins in the head, and the flat, snake-like face. The man was pale, translucent almost. He opened his eyes and revealed pale, red orbs, darkness and insanity lurking behind them.

Harry was still struggling, but managed to catch the look of admiration on Wormtail’s face.

The mysterious man walked over to Wormtail and said, “My wand, Wormtail.”

The balding man drew out a wand that looked like a bone, and presented it feebly. The man, with long, dirty fingernails, took the wand between long fingers.

“Hold out your arm.”

Wormtail looked like Christmas had come early, lifting out his handless arm and saying, “Master, thank you.”

But the pale, alien man snarled, “The other arm, Wormtail.” Now it seemed as though early Christmas had been canceled. A look of fear swept over Wormtail’s face. Harry couldn’t see the cloaked man’s face, but his every movement brought pain to Harry’s scar.

The man snatched Wormtail’s arm, squeezed it until a strange looking tattoo showed up, and then pressed his wand into it. In the clouds, Harry saw the thing he saw at the Quidditch World Cup. He realised then, that this man was Voldemort.

Various dark clouds rained down to different spots of the area they were in. Harry soon realised that these were people, the smoke cloaking them the way it had this man.

Voldemort walked to the center and greeted them, “Welcome, my friends. Thirteen years it’s been. And yet, here you stand before me, as though it were only yesterday. I confess myself… disappointed.” The man twirled around to look at his ‘friends.’ “Not one of you tried to find me.” The man reached forward and started pulling off people’s masks, and that brought them to their knees. “Crabbe! McNair! Goyle! Not even you,” he spoke to the only one still standing. “Lucius.” Harry’s eyes widened as the man pulled off his mask as well.

“My Lord,” Lucius hissed. “Had I detected any _sign_ or _whisper_ of your whereabouts—”

“There were signs, my slippery friend, and more than whispers.”

“I assure you My Lord, I have _never_ renounced the old ways.” Lucius stood up and took his mask off. “The face, I have been obliged to present each day since your, absence. _That_ is my true mask.” He glanced at Harry.

Wormtail stepped forward weakly. “I-I returned.” As Voldemort drew near, Wormtail shuddered and closed in on himself.

“Out of fear! Not loyalty,” Voldemort said. He then _petted_ Wormtail, and said, “Still, you have proved yourself useful these past few months, Wormtail.”

The man glided his wand over the empty space where Wormtail’s hand would normally be, and gave him a silvery blue one.

“Oh, thank you, Master, thank you.”

Then Voldemort walked to Cedric’s dead body, whose eyes were empty and glazed over, making him seem much deader than if they had been open. It was a terrifying sight. Voldemort was tutting, “Tch, tch, tch. Such a handsome boy.” The snake-faced man’s disgusting foot was on Cedric’s face and Harry felt anger surge through him.

“Don’t touch him!”

Voldemort turned to face him. “Harry! Oh, I had almost forgotten you were here. Standing on the bones of my father, yeah…” He walked up very closely to Harry, making Harry flinch. “I’d introduce you, but word has it you’re almost as famous as me these days.” The man turned to his followers. “The Boy, Who Lived.” Turning back to Harry, the man said, “How lies have fed your legend, Harry. Shall I reveal what really happened that night, thirteen years ago? Shall I divulge, how I _truly_ lost my powers?”

The pale man stalked away from Harry, as if telling a story to his followers. “It was love,” he said. “You see, when dear, sweet Lily Potter gave her life for her only son, she provided, the ultimate protection. I could not touch him. That was old magic, something I should have foreseen. But no matter, no matter. Things have changed.”

He swooped in close to Harry, raising an arm, and Harry’s head throbbed with the closeness to this snake-like man. “I! Can touch you… now.”

As soon as the man’s finger touched his scar, Harry screamed. _This_ was the worst it had ever been. Worse than any pain he had felt before. Not only the physical, but he could _feel_ the evil pulsing through him, just by this small connection, this small touch.

Harry struggled to keep his eyes open, and he barely saw the man grinning and sticking his tongue out and started yelling too and laughing at Harry.

Out of breath, the man panted, “Astonishing what a few drops of your blood will do, eh Harry?” Suddenly he backed up, the statue released Harry, and the man shouted, “Pick up your wand, Potter!”

Harry fell to the ground, numb and tired. He looked up helplessly at this evil man, and the followers who simply moved out of the way.

“I said pick it up! Get up, get up!”

Harry was scared, but scrambled around for his wand anyway.

“You’ve been taught how to duel, I presume, yes?” he spoke quickly. “First, we bow to each other.” The man bowed. “Come on now Harry, the niceties _must_ be preserved. Dumbledore wouldn’t want you to forget your manners, now would he? I said, _bow_.”

And pain shot up Harry’s back, as he involuntarily bent over, bowing to the horrid man.

“That's better,” Voldemort said. “And now... _Crucio!”_

Harry writhed on the ground, yelling in pain.

_“Crucio!”_ Voldemort yelled again.

The pain subsided, and Harry watched as gross, pale feet stepped over to him.

“Atta boy Harry, your parents would be proud. Especially your filthy mongrel mother.” He stepped and strolled around Harry’s limp form. He crouched down and said, “I'm going to kill you Harry Potter. I'm going to destroy you. After tonight, no one will ever again question my powers. After tonight, if they speak of you they'll speak only of how you begged for death, and I, being a merciful lord, obliged. Get up.” Harry was pulled roughly to a standing, but when he got his footing, he ran around to hide behind the huge gravestone.

“Don't you turn your back on me Harry Potter!” Voldemort shouted. “I want you to look at me when I kill you! I want to see the lights leave your eyes!”

Harry closed his eyes, and with determination, stood up, wand clenched in his hand, walked around to face the snake-like man. “Fine,” Harry said, voice rough from yelling. “Have it you way.”

And as Harry raised his wand, shouting his spell, Voldemort did the same.

_“Expelliarmus!”_

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

Bursts of light shot from where the spells met between them, Voldemort’s curse reminding Harry of the nightmares he had of a woman screaming and light flashing. He realised that must be the night he almost died, and his parents did die.

Harry’s own red disarming spell cast a devilish glow on the Dark Lord’s face, setting into an evil tone.

As Harry held on, the sparks grew bigger, and looked almost like… people?

Harry saw that he actually recognised the people’s forms. Almost ghost-like, the old man from his dream appeared, followed by Cedric, and Harry’s mum and dad.

As Voldemort’s followers stepped forward as if to help, Voldemort himself screamed, “Do nothing! He’s mine to finish! He’s mine!”

Harry looked to his sides where he saw his mother and father. His father spoke, “Harry, when the connection is broken you must get to the portkey. We can linger for a moment, but only a moment, do you understand?”

Harry nodded vigorously.

Cedric spoke next, requesting, “Harry, take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my father.”

Harry nodded again.

Harry’s mother spoke softly. “Let go.” When he hesitated, she said, “Sweetheart you're ready. Let go! Let go!”

Harry tugged his wand back, breaking the connection. He lunged at Cedric’s body and shouted, _“Accio_ cup!”

The trophy hurdled towards him, and as soon as it touched him, when felt himself being transported.

_-*0*-_

Draco watched with wide kitten eyes as the Dark Lord was reborn. He stared as Potter bravely fought him. He looked as Potter and Diggory were transported back to the stadium. The loud trumpets and cheering were almost too sickening compared to what he just saw.

And what he saw now, as Potter lay over Diggory’s dead body, everyone cheered as Potter wept, sobbed, and cried. It seemed Dumbledore was the first one to realise there was a problem. He tried to pry Potter away from the dead boy, but Potter protested, re-covering the boy each time he was pulled off.

“No! No!”

“Harry?” the old man questioned. “Harry? What’s happened?”

With a shaky voice and a tear streaked face, Potter answered, “He's back, he's back! Voldemort's back. Cedric, h-he asked me to bring his body back. I-I couldn't leave him, not there.”

“It's alright Harry. It's alright, he's home, you both are,” Dumbledore said.

 As people rushed around Potter and Diggory to congratulate them, Dumbledore stood and spoke quietly to the others. “Keep everybody in their seats. A boy has just been killed.” Draco saw as even Severus gasped.

Fudge stepped forward. “The body must be moved Dumbledore, there are... too many people.”

Amos Diggory’s bright smile faded and he yelled, “Let me through! That’s my son! That’s my boy! My boy…”

Amos started sobbing loudly at the loss of his son, and wailing, “No!”

Mad-Eye Moody grabbed Potter around the waist. “It’s okay, Potter. I’ve gotcha.”

They continued walking until they reached a room. Moody fairly shoved Potter through the door before locking it.

Potter was still sobbing.

Mad-Eye grabbed a chair. “Sit,” he told Potter, who did.

“Are you alright, Potter?”

Potter nodded, the tears now coming silently.

“Does it hurt?” Moody asked.

“Um, not so much now,” Potter answered shakily.

“Hm, I’d better take a look at it.”

Moody yanked Potter’s arm, making him wince.

“The cup was a portkey,” he told Moody as the man looked at the four inch gash on him arm. “Someone had bewitched it.”

Moody looked up, seemingly not hearing that information and asked, “What was it like? What was he like?”

“W-who?”

“The Dark Lord,” Moody was gripping Potter’s arm tightly. “What was it like to stand in his presence?” Moody asked with his face twisted into a sort of leer.

“Um, I dunno. I-it was like I had fallen into one of my dreams,” he answered. Potter whispered, more to himself than Moody, “One of my nightmares.”

Moody was now squeezing Potter’s arm, thumb digging into the wound. Potter hissed in pain. Moody released his arm, and stood up, searching around the room for something.

Potter watched curiously as Moody rummaged through empty bottles and jars, choking slightly.

Moody stilled, and then asked with a rough voice, “Were there others? In the graveyard, were there others?”

Potter opened his mouth to answer, but paused and then said, “Er, I don’t think I said anything about a graveyard, professor.

Moody turned around slowly, stalking forwards until he was towering the small boy. In a voice not his own, Moody said, “Marvelous creatures, dragons aren't they?” And in his normal tone, “Do you think that miserable oaf would have led you into the woods if I hadn't suggested it?” Moody turned and searched through more bottles, the glass clinking together loudly.

“Do you think Cedric Diggory would have told you to hold the egg under the water if I hadn't have told him first myself?” he shouted. “Do you think Neville Longbottom, the witless wonder, could have provided you with gillyweed if I hadn't have given him the book that led you straight to it? Huh??” Moody was shouting and having some sort of fit.

With tears coming back to his eyes, Potter stammered, “It was you from the beginning. You put my name in the Goblet of Fire. You bewitched Krum. But, but...”

“But, but, but…” Moody mocked. “You won because I made it so Potter. You ended up in that graveyard tonight because it was meant to be so. And now the deed is done. The blood that runs through these veins runs within the Dark Lord. Imagine how he will reward me when he learns that I have once and for all silenced the great Harry Potter.”

Suddenly the door burst open and in walked Dumbledore and Severus. They bound Moody to a chair.

“Severus,” Dumbledore said to the Potions Master, who walked up to Moody and poured what looked to be veritaserum into Moody’s mouth.

“Do you know who I am?” Dumbledore asked Moody.

“Albus Dumbledore,” was the choked response.

“Are you Alastor Moody?”

“…”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Is he in this room? Is he in this room?” he yelled.

Moody—or whoever it actually was—looked over at a chest that Potter was standing next to.

“Harry, get away from there!”

Potter jumped quickly out of the way.

Draco watched in amazement as the chest opened, revealing a slightly smaller one. And the again. And again. And several more times until the chest was actually open.

Dumbledore looked over the edge. “Are you alright, Alastor?”

“I’m sorry, Albus,” the real Mad-eye called up.

Potter stammered, “T-that’s Moody, so then who’s…?”

Severus picked up a bottle from a case Moody was looking through earlier. He gave it a sniff and declared, “Polyjuice potion.”

“Now we know who’s been stealing from your stores, Severus,” Dumbledore muttered. He looked down into the chest holding Moody and called, “We’ll get you out in a minute!”

Moody just groaned.

The other, fake, Moody was having some sort of fit, twitching and shaking. The binds on his wrists snapped, and his hands went up to his deforming face, and pulled the fake eye out, which fell on the floor and twitched.

The man continued to change and transform, and eventually looked like a young, crazy man who kept licking his lips.

“Barty Crouch Jr.” Dumbledore looked at the man, Crouch Jr., with an air of disdain.

Crouch lifted his sleeve. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said in a scratchy voice.

Dumbledore blindly fumbled for Potter’s arm. “Your arm, Harry.”

The gash on Harry’s arm was bleeding slowly still, and twitched when Crouch’s Dark Mark darkened. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Crouch said with glee, licking his lips rapidly. “He’s back. Lord Voldemort has returned.”

Still staring in disbelief, Dumbledore murmured, “Send an owl to Azkaban, I think they’ll find they’re missing a prisoner.”

“I’ll be welcomed back as a hero!” Crouch insisted.

“Perhaps,” Dumbledore said. “Personally, I’ve never had much time for heroes.”

The screen went black, and Draco looked down at the Potter here in the room, who was crying silent tears, shoulders hunched and back tense.

_-*0*-_

Harry knew he was crying, but he barely registered the small teardrops falling onto his hand, instead focusing on the blood dripping from his fourteen year old self’s arm. The screen changed to Professor Umbridge’s office. It was pink and fluffy and absolutely filled with pictures of cats on plates.

The memory was one Harry recognised immediately. He saw himself in a chair, only slightly younger, and writing on a piece parchment. Harry saw his hand being carved into by an invisible force. He glanced down at his own hand and saw the scar.

_I must not tell lies._

Harry sighed and stood, picking up and putting away the projecting Pensieve. He walked over to his bedside table and opened a drawer. Inside laid a knife.

Harry picked it up with his right hand, fingering the blade with his left.

He walked back over to his bed, sat down, and said, “I must not tell lies. I am worthless.” And he slashed the blade across his arm. “I must not tell lies. I am a freak.” Another slash. Harry could feel himself getting weaker, the blood pouring steadily from his arm.

Hedwig’s cage rattled and Harry looked up.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve kept you here when I couldn’t feed you.” Harry set down the knife and stumbled over to the cage and unlocked it with his non-bloody hand.

“Here, you can go. I don’t know where to let you out at; I’m probably not going to be fed or checked on for a while, so I can’t open the door. I’m sorry.”

Harry turned around and picked up the knife. It was time for this to be over. Harry set the blade on his neck.

“I must not tell lies. I am nothing.”

And Harry slit his throat.

 

**End of Chapter Six**


	7. Tears Forever Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have zero excuse for taking so long.  
> I appear to have simply fallen out of the fandom.  
> I will try to write more chapters, and do not worry, I go through cycles of fandoms, and Harry Potter is just out of the loop this time around. This is a WIP, not an abandoned story. Please be patient and continue with all of your lovely comments.

Right as Potter had unlocked the cage door, Severus had slipped out, leaving Draco in the cage. As soon as Potter’s back turned, Severus transformed back into a man. When the boy began slicing into his own flesh, Severus grabbed his arm, wrenching the blade out of the hands of the wide-eyed boy.

“What…? Potter gasped.

“You foolish child!” Severus hissed. You are coming with me at once.”

The green stare never wavered. “What—how?”

“Hogwarts,” Severus stated, and turned toward the cage. “Draco, come.”

Draco crawled out and transformed, standing tall and lean in the middle of the room.

_-*0*-_

As the reality settled in, Harry felt disgusted. How could they? They ruined his death, they tricked him into caring, and, and, they _knew_. Knew the horrible secret Harry had hidden for years.

Harry felt nothing; the despair from before had vanished. The sadness left emptiness in its wake. He felt light, like he was floating.

He hadn’t realised he was falling.

_-*0*-_

 

Severus sighed as he watched the raven-haired boy sleep restlessly.

“Severus?” Draco’s voice floated from behind him.

Severus turned and brought Draco into a hug, holding the boy tight, staring down at the platinum hair, wondering if anyone’s life was fair at all.

“Severus, I… I don’t understand,” Draco admitted.

“What don’t you understand?” Severus asked, sitting down on the bed beside Potter’s, gesturing next to himself to indicate where Draco should sit.

Draco sat, sighing, “He’s… the chosen one. How could he kill himself, and leave the entire world in You-Know-Who’s hands? Does he think no one will miss him? The whole bloody wizarding world’s in love with him!”

“Draco, it is obviously a far more complicated matter than I can appropriately explain right now,” Severus murmured softly.

_-*0*-_

Draco looked at Potter, who didn’t appear to be any sort of ‘chosen one.’ _He’s quite pathetic, really,_ Draco thought. _Seriously, he looks stupid with his glasses, but now, without them, he doesn’t even look like Harry Potter. Ridiculous._

But as Draco peered at the other boy, he couldn’t help noticing that Potter had nice cheekbones, as well as a couple of cute freckles here and there and… Draco absolutely did not think Potter was cute in any sort of way, at all.

_Who is it I am trying to convince here?_ He thought with a sigh.

“What is it, Draco?” Severus asked.

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” Draco replied quickly.

Severus looked suspicious but did not push.

_He knows._

_Knows what?_

_That I think Potter is… attractive._

_Except I don’t._

_Definitely not._

_-*0*-_

Harry came to awareness slowly, blinking away the sand in his eyes. Even with his blurry vision, Harry could make out the dark outline of Snape, and the slightly less intimidating silhouette of Malfoy.

Who was staring at him, unblinking.

Harry lifted a sleepy hand to rub at his face, which seemed to snap Malfoy out of his daze and make him realise he was staring. He quickly turned away, finding the window opposite to be suddenly interesting.

Harry narrowed his eyes, but quickly forgot his confusion as it hit him.

He wasn’t at the Dursley’s.

But where was he?

Looking around, Harry observed the unfamiliar room, decorated with greens and blacks, with accents of silver; it was clearly a Slytherin room.

Harry was angry again. Leaning up slightly in his—not his—bed, he attempted to untangle himself from the white sheets. He jolted then stilled as pain shot through his entire body, making him whimper.

Snape rushed towards him, murmuring, “You foolish child, stay in bed.”

“What are you doing?” Harry asked.

Snape looked at him in confusion. “Have you truly nothing to live for?” he asked bluntly.

“I… what?” Harry replied eloquently, scratching the cotton sheets with his now short nails.

“You tried to kill yourself. You are aware of the fact that the Dark Lord is hunting you—”

“So why should I live and keep getting my friends killed?” Harry interrupted.

Snape closed his eyes and sighed. Harry glared at him.

“You had no right,” he muttered.

Snape looked at him sharply. “Pardon?”

“You… you had no right to-to see… you aren’t supposed to know, no one is, but you took information without asking, you took it, and now I can’t ever keep my secrets ‘cause you _know,_ and you’ll tell everyone, and, and you’ll…” Harry dissolved into sobs, clutching a pillow tightly between his arms.

_-*0*-_

_Oh, child._ Severus thought.

He sat and waited for the sobs to cease, but it did not appear that the tears would soon be gone.

 

 

 

What Snape didn’t know is that the tears would never stop.

 

**End of Chapter Seven**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite a cliff-hanger this time, SORRY about that, by the way. ^^'


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